The big Indian gave a more strenuous pull,
and the boot came off suddenly. Unprepared for this, he lost his
balance and fell down the bank almost into the creek. He held on to
the boot, nevertheless, and getting up, threw it into the fire.
The braves quieted down after that, and soon lapsed into slumber,
leaving the big fellow, to whom the chief had addressed his brief
command, acting, as guard. Observing Joe watching him as he puffed
on his new pipe, he grinned, and spoke in broken English that was
intelligible, and much of a surprise to the young man.
"Paleface--tobac'--heap good."
Then, seeing that Joe made no effort to follow his brother's
initiative, for Jim was fast asleep, he pointed to the recumbent
figures and spoke again.
"Ugh! Paleface sleep--Injun wigwams--near setting sun."
On the following morning Joe was awakened by the pain in his legs,
which had been bound all night. He was glad when the bonds were cut
and the party took up its westward march.
The Indians, though somewhat quieter, displayed the same
carelessness: they did not hurry, nor use particular caution, but
selected the most open paths through the forest. They even halted
while one of their number crept up on a herd of browsing deer. About
noon the leader stopped to drink from a spring; his braves followed
suit and permitted the white prisoners to quench their thirst.
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